I'm burning up. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. “Well?” he asked her tersely. Melusine’s eyes shifted. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech.
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